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Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd,
Wants wit in all one word to understand.

Luc. Fy, brother! how the world is chang'd with you;

When were you wont to use my fifter thus ?
She fent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
Ant. By Dromio ?

S. Dro. By me?

Adr. By thee; and thus thou didst return from him, That he did buffet thee; and in his blows

Deny'd my house for his, me for his wife.

Ant. Did you converfe, Sir, with this gentlewoman? What is the courfe and drift of your compact ?

S. Dro. I, Sir? I never faw her 'till this time. Ant. Villain, thou lieft; for even her very words Didit thou deliver to me on the 'mart,

S. Dro. I never spoke with her in all my life.
Ant. How can fhe thus then call us by our names,
Unless it be by inspiration?

Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity,
To counterfeit thus grofly with your flave,
Abetting him to thwart me in my mood?
Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt",
But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
Come, I will fasten on this fleeve of thine;
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine:
Whose weakness, marry'd to thy ftronger state,
Makes me with thy ftrength to communicate;
If aught poffefs thee from me, it is dross,
Ufurping ivy, brier, or idle moss;

Who, all for want of pruning, with intrufion

Infect thy fap, and live on thy confufion.

Ant. To me the speaks; the moves me for her

theam:

What, was I marry'd to her in my dream?

-you are from me exempt.] Exempt, feparated, parted. The fenfe is, If I am doomed to fuffer

the wrong of feparation, yet injure not with contempt me who am already injured.

Or

Or fleep I now, and think I hear all this?
What error drives our eyes and ears amifs?
Until I know this fure uncertainty,

I'll entertain the favour'd fallacy.

Luc. Dromio, go bid the fervant fpread for dinner. S. Dro. Oh, for my beads! I crofs me for a finner. This is the Fairy land: oh, fpight of fpights! We talk with goblins, owls, and elvish sprights; If we obey them not, this will enfue,

They'll fuck our breath, and pinch us black and blue. Luc. Why prat'ft thou to thyfelf, and anfwer'st not $?

Dromio, thou drone, thou fnail, thou flug, thou fot! S. Dro.

We talk with goblins, owls,

and elvish Sprights;] Here Mr. Theobald calls out in the name of Nonfenfe, the first time he had formally invoked her, to tell him how Owls could fuck their breath, and pinch them black and blue. He, therefore, alters Owls to Ouphs, and dares fay, that his readers will acquiefce in the juftness of his emendation. But, for all this, we must not part with the old reading. He did not know it to be an old popular fuperftition, that the fcretchowl fucked out the breath and blood of infants in the cradle. On this account, the Italians called Witches, who were fuppofed to be in like manner mifchievously bent against children, Strega, from Strix, the Scretchowl. This fuperftition they had derived from their Pagan anceftors, as appears from this paffage of Ovid,

Sunt avida volucres; non quæ
Phingia menfis
Guttura fraudabant : fed genus

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inde trahunt. Grande caput: ftantes oculi: rofira apta rapina: Canities pennis, unguibus hamus ineft.

Note volant, PUBROSQUE PETUNT nutricis egentes;

Et vitiant CUNIs corpora rapta fuis. Carpere dicuntur lacentia viscera roftris;

Et plenum poto fanguine guttur babent.

Eft illis ftrigibus nomen : →→→→→

Lib. 6. Feft.' WARBURTON Why prat'ft thou to thyself? Dromio, thou Dromio, fnail,

theu flug, thou fot!] In the first of thefe Lines Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope have both, for what Reafon I cannot tell, curtail'd the Measure, and difmounted the doggrel Rhyme, which I have replac'd from the firft Folio. The fecond Verfe is there likewise read;

Dromio, thou Dromio, thou
Snail, thou flug, thou fot.

The

S. Dro. I am transformed, mafter, am not I?
Ant. I think, thou art in mind, and fo am I.
S. Dro. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.
Ant. Thou haft thine own form.

S. Dro. No; I am an ape.

Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, 'tis to an afs. S. Dro. 'Tis true; fhe rides me, and I long for grafs. 'Tis fo, I am an afs; But I fhould know her,

else it could' never be,

as well as fhe knows me.

Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
To put the finger in the Eye and weep,
Whilft man and mafter laugh my woes to fcorn.
Come, Sir, to dinner; Dromio, keep the gate;
Husband, I'll dine above with you to day,
And fhrive you of a thousand idle pranks;
Sirrah, if any afk you for you master,
Say, he dines forth, and let no creature enter:
Come, fifter; Dromio, play the

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porter well.
Ant. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
Sleeping or waking, mad or well advis'd?
Known unto thefe, and to myfelf difguis'd?
I'll fay as they fay, and perfevere so;
And in this mift at all adventures go.

S. Dro. Mafter, fhall I porter at the gate?
Adr. Ay, let none enter, left I break your pate.
Luc. Come, come, Antipholis, we dine too late.
[Exeunt.

The Verfe is thus half a Foot
too long; my Correction cures
that Fault: befides Drone corre-
fronds with the other Appella-

tions of Reproach. THEOBALD.

9 And forive you-] That is, I will call you to confeffion, and make you tell your tricks.

ACT

A C T III,

SCENE I.

The Street before Antipholis's Houfe.

Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, Dromio of Ephefus, Angelo, and Balthazar.

G

E. ANTIPHOLIS.

OOD Signior Angelo, you must excufe us;
My wife is fhrewifh, when I keep not hours;
Say, that I linger'd with you at your shop
To fee the making of her carkanet';

And that to-morrow you will bring it home.
But here's a villain, that would face me down
He met me on the mart, and that I beat him;
And charg'd him with a thousand marks in gold;
And that I did deny my wife and house:

Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? E. Dro. Say what you will, Sir; but I know what 1. know;

That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to

show;

If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink,

Your own hand-writing would tell you what I think. E. Ant. I think, thou art an ass.

E. Dro. Marry, fo it doth appear

By the wrongs I fuffer, and the blows I bear;

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I should

tainly, This is Crofs-purposes in Reafoning. It appears, Drumio is an Afs by his making no Refiftance: becaufe an Afs, being kick'd, kicks again. Our Author never argues at this wild Rate, where his Text is genuine. THEOBALD.

I do not think this emenda-

I should kick, being kickt; and, being at that pass, You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass. E. Ant. Y'are fad, Signior Balthazar. Pray God,

our cheer

May answer my good will, and your good welcome here. Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, Sir, and your

welcome dear.

E. Ant. Ah, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fifh, A table-full of welcome makes fcarce one dainty dish. Bal. Good meat, Sir, is common: that every churl affords.

E. Ant. And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words.

Bal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a merry feaft.

E. Ant. Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest:

But tho' my cates be mean, take them in good part; Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. But, foft; my door is lockt; go bid them let us in. E. Dro. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Ginn!

S. Dro. (within) Mome, malt-horfe, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch!

Either

get thee from the door, or fit down at the hatch: Doft thou conjure for wenches, that thou call❜ft for fuch store,

When one is one too many? go, get thee from the door.

E. Dró. What patch is made our porter? my mafter ftays in the street.

S. Dro. Let him walk from whence he came, left he catch cold on's feet.

tion neceffary. He firft fays, that his wrongs and blows prove him an af; but immediately, with a correction of his former fentiment, fuch as may be hour

2

ly obferved in converfation, he obferves, that, if he had been an afs, he fhould, when he was kicked, have kicked again.

E. Ant.

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